


Testimony

by commandershakarian



Series: The Wolf of Skyhold [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Commander Samson Au, Depression, Dragon Age AU, M/M, Trespasser DLC, Uvir - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandershakarian/pseuds/commandershakarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A commission for therickykitty of his Inquisitor, Desya, and Raleigh Samson. It’s always an honor to write for this pairing. <3 Events take place at the end of the Trespasser DLC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Testimony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therickykitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therickykitty/gifts).



Raleigh Samson could almost feel the desperation in the air. His husband had been missing for nearly half the day, gone through that fucking eluvian on his way to take down the Viddasala. Samson had practically begged him not to go, but Desya Lavellan had to do this. He’d understood, but it didn’t stop him from being furious at the man he loved.

However, if he was completely honest with himself, he’d know he was more pissed at himself for not following than at his husband for leaving.

Running a hand roughly through his graying hair, Samson paced in front of the mirror, not a ripple on its surface to alert him to Desya’s return. Uvir, their precious daughter, had begun asking questions about the Exalted Council and what it meant for them. Samson had patted her head and told her everything would work out. But truth be told, the Commander had no idea what to expect. Cassandra had tried to calm his fears, but nothing she said penetrated his thick skull.

With a growl, Samson kicked over the pile of books at his feet. The volumes fell, pages scattering across the floor. He didn’t care if they were the Empress’ private collection. He would rip each page from its respective book before burning them. His love wasn’t back yet and he was getting frantic.

“Destroying the room isn’t going to make this go faster.”

The little voice came from the shadows, but Samson immediately knew whom it belonged to. Grunting, the former templar rubbed his hooked nose, frustration warring with worry. “I’m not in the mood, Ryra.”

Darkness dissolved to reveal a dwarven woman of less than five feet in height, her russet skin making it easy for her to disappear into the shadows. Her choppy ebony hair fell slightly into her face, framing a pair of eerie blue-violet eyes. Vanryra Brosca was a hell of a woman, both as a friend and as an enemy. He was grateful that she had ended up a friend.

“You’re never in the mood, Samson. Shouldn’t having a child make you more patient?” Ryra inquired, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the tall man in front of her. “What would Desya say if he saw you right now?”

“Desya is the reason I’m like this!” Samson snarled, grabbing a handful of hair. “If anything happens to him, I swear-”

“You’ll what, Raleigh?” Vanryra cocked an eyebrow and waited for a response. When none came, she continued on, a knowing expression on her face. “That’s precisely what I thought.”

“Fucking hell, Ryra. Shouldn’t you be irritating the nobles with you and Leliana’s lovey dovey shit?” Samson knew how much of a soft spot Leliana was for the dwarf, especially since the bard was now the Divine.

“How dare you. Don’t take your pissy attitude out on me. I didn’t send Lavellan through that damned mirror!”

“No, but you and your fucking Divine let him go without me. I could have-”

Samson’s words were cut off when the mirror behind him rippled. Turning to the glass, the Commander waited for his love to return to him. When Desya came through, however, the joy of seeing his husband return was replaced by horror.

“Andraste’s flaming arse! Bull, what _happened_?” 

Desya was cradled against the Iron Bull’s chest, the Qunari mercenary holding the Inquisitor as best he could as he stepped from the eluvian. Blood covered the elf, coming from somewhere Samson couldn’t see. Sera and Dorian followed Bull, both looking weary and pale.

“That elf.” Bull growled, not bothering to let Samson get a good look at Desya’s injuries. “The Boss tried everything he could to make him see reason and Solas took his arm.”

Fear seized Samson: fear for his husband, fear for himself. Fear for what was to come. Their companions were silent as they returned to the interior of the Winter Palace, concern for the Inquisitor driving them to move quickly.

It was difficult seeing his husband despondent, broken, faithless. Desya’s sparkling emerald eyes had lost their light. There was nothing in them. It had been hours since the Inquisitor’s return through the eluvian, the tale of what happened with Solas having to be told by his companions. The only words Desya had uttered since waking was “Keep Uvir away.” Their daughter had tried multiple times to see him, but the elf didn’t want her to see him in such a state. Samson didn’t blame him.

“Dove.” Samson whispered, brushing the Inquisitor’s snow white hair behind his ear. Desya didn’t move, didn’t look in his direction. The Commander had to hide the hurt this caused. What had Solas done to the man he loved?

Trying a different tactic, Samson reached for Desya’s hand, the only hand left he reminded himself, and brought it to his lips. The elf’s skin was cold and it worried the Commander.

“Love? Please talk to me.”

The tiniest of sighs escaped the Inquisitor’s lips. “What would you have me say, Samson?”

“Anything. I need to know that you’ll be alright.” Samson had handed his heart to this man years ago. He would do anything to see him well again.

Desya pulled his hand from Samson’s grip. He turned away from his husband to stare out of the window onto the Palace gardens. The flowers were in full bloom, the birds singing and flying in circles above the fountains. All of this was lost on the Inquisitor.

Samson silently waited for his love to speak.

When he finally did, Desya’s voice quivered, the roughness of it surprising the old commander. “He ruined everything. I was questioning everything before, but this? This is worse. He made me realize that everything I’ve done, everything I’ve fought against, was for nothing.”

“That isn’t true.” Desya wouldn’t meet his gaze, but that didn’t stop him from saying what needed to be said. “You’ve changed lives, dove. You’ve saved them too and don’t let Solas stop you from being happy with the good you’ve done.”

“It’s all going to be erased. Everything. He won’t stop until it’s done.” Desya reached for his missing limb and then sighed heavily when he remembered it was gone.

“Then we stop him.” Samson said, determined to bring the light back into his husband’s eyes. “We stop at nothing to bring the bastard down.”

Desya, viridescent eyes wide, glanced at the man he loved. “You mean to kill him?”

“Of course I mean to.” Samson growled, rage roiling within him. Solas would pay for what he’d done.

Desya placed his hand on Samson’s knee, stilling the anger. “Love, we will not kill him.”

“What are you-”

“Solas was my friend. He needs help and I will try as much as I can to bring him back to himself. Killing is a last resort.”

Desya’s tone was firm, unwavering. There would be no changing his mind. His husband’s loyalty knew no bounds and in a way, it made Samson proud.

In other ways, it drove him crazy.

There was only one thing left to deal with.

“What are you going to do about the Exalted Council?” 

 

A hush fell over the Exalted Council as Samson entered, his silverite armor gleaming in candlelight that lit the room. Hovering above him were those judging the Inquisition. Arl Teagan Guerrin of Ferelden, Cyril de Montfort of Orlais and of course, Divine Victoria. Samson gave a slight nod in Leliana’s direction, signalling that the Inquisitor had returned from the eluvian. She smiled.

“Your Holiness. My lords. The Inquisition is prepared to give its testimony.” It took all he had to not spit the words out. There were many things he wished he could do in that moment and his only restraint was his husband.

“Testimony?” Teagan hissed out, his blue eyes glaring out of a face that had seen a great too many tragedies. Samson almost pitied the man. “The Inquisition has kept us from the truth of these eluvians and of the Qunari invasion. Why should we allow a testimony at all?”

“Because I command it.” Leliana spoke, her words pretty, but the threat unmistakeable.

Teagan was red faced. “If you think to threaten me, Your Holiness-”

The door slammed open, the sound of boots against stone silencing the argument. Eyes turned to see who had entered, but Samson stood straight, knowing his dove would do what was right, what was just. He always did.

Desya Lavellan walked past Samson, his white hair braided back from his face, his body enclosed in the silk of the Orlesian formal wear that always dazzled him. An enormous book was held in his hand. Samson recognized it near immediately.

The thick volume, the orders from the previous Divine on forming the Inquisition, thudded to the floor. The lords stood from their perch, eyes wide, mouths agape. Leliana watched with amusement in her eyes.

“Enough!” Desya shouted, his usual delicate voice commanding the attention of the room. There was something in his gait, in his expression, that made it clear that he meant business. “Arl Teagan, you _need_ the Inquisition. Without our help, your castle may never had returned to your hands.”

“How dare-”

“I am not finished, Arl. You _and_ Ferelden need the Inquisition because without us, order would have never been restored. Order that neither you nor your King could bring.”

Teagan looked as if he was about to give Desya a tongue lashing, but he held.

Desya turned to the Orlesian delegate next. “Cyril de Montfort, my lord. You will not use the Inquisition as a tool for the Empress. We were not created to be puppets. We shall never be.”

Samson smiled as the Orlesian became despondent and yet he still said nothing.

“The Inquisition will change. We will be a peace keeping force. When a new threat appears, the Inquisition will come to the aid of its allies.”

Without another glance in their direction, Desya grabbed Samson’s hand and left the room, the Exalted Council finished whether they wished it to be or not. Samson was proud of the man he loved and he knew, no matter what happened with Solas, or Thedas as a whole, he would face the onslaught with dignity and courage.

And Samson would be by his side the entire way.


End file.
